Sixteen Candles
by Purple Wolf Girl
Summary: It’s Starfire’s sweet sixteen, and when Robin’s gift fails to appear at her party, the princess feels as though she has been totally crushed. But when an unexpected note slips under her door, she discovers that the number sixteen has never been sweeter.RS


**Author's Note (no, not a music note, dummy) of August 14****th****, 2007: **YAY! IT'S MY BIRTHDAY! So…that's why I wrote a b-day fic. Well, I hope you enjoy this oneshot. I work very hard on my stories to make sure that they're, like, as good as I can get 'em, so I would most appreciate if you could just type up a quick review when you get to the end of this fic. Enjoy!

--Purple Wolf Girl

**Summary:** _It's Starfire's sweet sixteen, and when Robin's gift fails to appear at her party, the princess feels as though she has been totally crushed. But when an unexpected note slips under her door, she discovers that the number sixteen has never been sweeter. RxS. Oneshot._ (Rated for Safety)

**Disclaimer: **I own the ideas of my stories, the plots, etc. But I do not own the Teen Titans or any related terms—including characters and Jump City or their weird love of tofu and pizza. But, heck, I wish I did. Whoever doesn't wish they owned the Titans, raise you hand! Anyone? Didn't think so…

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**"Sixteen Candles"**

_By Purple Wolf Girl_

The sun cascaded in through the wide window, hopelessly draped in pink curtains and eggshell blinds. The atmosphere was tinted blue, and seemed indistinguishable behind the shimmering sun. The star polished the waters of the deep, cool ocean and fish flickered their fins as they fought against currants. The lavender wallpaper flapped slowly as a stray breeze teased a loose corner. The bed seemed to moan as the sheets melted off of it, two bronze feet saying their greetings to the morning through the fluffy comforter. A disturbance came among the blankets—crimson hair drifting over feathery pillows, and few various teddy bears and monstrous-looking stuffed toys tumbling to their doom from the mattress. Emerald eyes peered sleepily at the window. The light stung at the pupils, and a hand shielded them from the day. A slender frame sat up slowly with morning grunts and thoughts of returning to slumber. But today was not the day for sleep. Today was _the_ day—the day of "womanhood", as Galfore had once dubbed it…the day of love and harmony. But, as for Starfire, she was more focused on seeing what present her hero had selected for her. And, of course, taste the cake Cyborg had taken the task of baking into the late hours of the night. She knew Beast Boy had written a rap for her, and that Raven was probably dreading the festivities.

Starfire yawned lazily, stretching her arms into the air. She struggled to pull her tiny nightgown down to her knees. It was an obnoxious shade of pink, like her curtains, with a little purple star sewed on the sleeve and flirty frills at the hem. It looked more like lingerie than bedtime attire, but Starfire insisted on it. And what Starfire wanted, Starfire got, even when it wasn't her birthday or any other gift-giving occasion.

She stood up with a wobble onto her fuzzy rug, and yawned once more as she made her way to her mirror. She giggled a little as she looked upon her appearance. Her eyes had seemed to vanish without her heavy appliance of mascara and eyeliner. Her hair was sticking up in all directions and her eyes carried dark circles underneath them. She sighed at a small blemish on her chin. She poked at it childishly, sticking her tongue out when it oozed a bit. The princess combed through her hair and tugged away tangles and mats.

Starfire put her hands on her hips and felt her thighs self-consciously. She groaned when she looked at herself from the side angle, and sucked in what was left of her flat stomach. She always saw what she didn't have—stick legs, a Dolly Parton torso, and…Robin. She did not quite have him, but she saw him every night in her dreams, creating the sensations of what his kiss would feel like. She imagined a careful embrace and a sweet aftertaste from heated whispers in time. She longed to play with his hair, and welcome the feeling of peeling away stubborn layers of emotion. Somehow, her heart knew that there was a spark of romance flickering somewhere off in the distance. Just beyond her reach, he was reaching back for her. But he kept stepping away…just a little whenever she dropped a hint. But, perhaps, sixteen would be sweeter than she had pictured, and she would obtain something more than a friend.

Starfire treaded down the stairs with a heavy sigh, convincing her Prince Charming fantasy to fade away from her thoughts. Robin could never love her, she told herself as she ventured down the narrow hallway. She believed that he could not truly adore a strange little alien. But, little did she know, he certainly could—and did.

**O.O**

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY, STARFIRE!"

Starfire squealed gleefully as she overlooked a room filled with balloons and banners with positive sayings printed on them. She clapped her hands and jumped up and down as she eyed the birthday cake Cyborg had made—smothered in chocolate frosting with flowers and hearts formed from hardened pink icing. Her mouth watered at the thought of it tickling her taste buds. It was plastered with blue candles…sixteen of them. Cyborg beamed as he watched her ogle at his creation. Beast Boy danced in a circle around Raven. She crossed her arms, but offered a feeble smile to Starfire. Robin merely stood in the kitchen, leaning against the refrigerator and fidgeting with his hands in his pockets. He fumbled with something in his jeans, but kept a blank expression except for an upward twitch of his lips. Starfire frowned at his lack of socializing, and began fussing with a stray lock of hair. Beast Boy opened up his mouth, and out came the birthday song. Cyborg chimed in happily, opening up his arms as if he were going to hug something the size of an abominable snowman. Raven droned every other word, watching Beast Boy irritably. Robin rubbed the back of his neck and sang a little to himself. The Princess forced a weak grin and Beast Boy began to make up his own lyrics to the celebration song.

"_HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU! IT'S MY BIRTHDAY, TOO! So…HAPPY SUPER-DUPER SIXTEENTH BIRTHDAY TO YOU! HAPPY SUPER-DUPER SIXTEENTH BIRTHDAY TOOOOOOOO…_" Beast Boy paused, along with Cyborg, who looked as if he was in pain from holding back his laughter. Raven just groaned. "_YOUUUUU!_"

The pitiful chorus ended with a painful smile lurking onto a pretty face, and a tiny groan leaked out. Starfire peeked her head out from a pile of a neatly wrapped assortment of gifts. She brushed a long stand of crimson hair out of her face as she began to jump up and down at the sight of all her presents, and, of course, the relief her ears felt from the end of painfully off-key singing. A mixed view of Beast Boy and a Raven, almost sinister looking at the moment, blinked behind the many gifts. The dark girl carried a very deadpan expression and kept a continuous pattern of mouthing curse words. She pulled her hood back from her head to show her face, which seemed more rabid than Starfire had ever witnessed before. But…Beast Boy most likely provoked that expression—for he would not stop poking her arm and asking her what she had gotten Starfire for her sweet sixteen. Cyborg presented a humorous smile and a thumbs-up to the birthday girl as she started to open her first gift. Beast Boy gasped when she started to open the card from him that was duck taped to the present. He ran over to her swiftly, snatching the paper from her hand. Robin raised a brow.

The Changeling cleared his throat triumphantly. "Star, this is the rap I was talking about. And…unless you can make the beat, you just won't get it."

Starfire tapped her chin. "Oh." She cooed. "Perhaps…you should do the rapping, yes?"

He snapped his fingers. "You bet. Hey, Cy!" he called. "Give me a beat!"

Cyborg nodded with a goofy grin, beginning to beat-box and shuffle his feet around on the tiled floor. Beast Boy laughed nervously as he began to read off of the paper:

"_For the Birthday Girl..._

_Is that meat? _

_Well please don't chew!_

_Especially when you could have tofu!_

_Chicken, Turkey, Ham, and Beef._

_I'd rather chew on an ocean reef!_

_Look at Raven drinking tea!_

_And then at Cyborg, he loves meat...y!"_

Raven and Cyborg exchanged a puzzled glance.

"_Then there's Robin, working out._

_But I know he eats meat, no doubt!"_

Robin cocked his head to the side. Starfire giggled.

"_So thank you, Star, that's what I'm trying to say,_

_For all your freakish non-earthly things._

_There's your stewed Glorfest, stinky and brown!_

_Here's the Borka---dang smell knocked out half the town!_

_'Course the pickled Gorb is number one,_

_Because watching Cyborg eating it was so much fun!_

_Uh-oh! I think I'm running out of puns..."_

Cyborg stopped beat boxing. Beast Boy continued.

"_So, yet again, here's what I'm trying' to say:_

_HAVE YOURSELF A GREAT BIRTHDAY!_

_PS: No matter what Raven says about me using your toothbrush to scrub the toilet, it's not true." _

Beast boy smiled childishly. Raven looked greener than the Changeling usually did. Cyborg pointed and laughed until he nearly ran out of breath. Robin opened and closed his mouth numerous times, but nothing came out. And Starfire simply clapped and giggled something in Tameranian. She pulled a stubborn link of crimson hair behind her ear as she pulled Beast boy into her arms. He let out a small snicker, as Robin's mask got smaller.

"Thank you, friend Beast Boy!" Starfire exclaimed; the rapper still locked in her embrace. "That was…most enjoyable!"

Beast Boy laughed in spite of himself. "Yeah, it was."

"Wow." Raven said dully. "I think I'm going to be sick."

Cyborg fell back onto the couch. "BB, were you high when you wrote that?" he asked calmly, a hint of humor in his voice.

"No!" Beast Boy protested, sticking out his tongue. "You're just dumb!"

Starfire turned to face Robin, a famous grin planted onto her features. "Robin, what did you think of Beast Boy's creation?" she inquired sweetly.

The Boy Wonder shrugged. "…Unforgettable." He said, barely sarcastic.

The alien beamed. "Yes, quite. Now…please, what other gifts am I to receive on this occasion?"

Raven slowly selected a small gift from the pile, engulfed in violet wrapping paper. The Empath shoved it into Starfire's arms, offering a small smile. "Happy birthday, Starfire." She said monotonously.

The alien grinned as she overlooked the mysterious box. Raven cleared her throat when Star hesitated to open it.

"Uh…something wrong?" Raven asked dully, giving off a light shrug.

"It is so nicely wrapped. I would feel…sad for destroying your creation," She replied simply.

Raven groaned. "Just open it."

Star grimaced. "Are you certain?"

Raven's irritated expression said it all. "Go nuts."

Starfire clapped her hands excitedly, ripping open the gift like an angry cat. Shreds of wrapping paper fluttered around her, flying up into the air as she eagerly discovered what was inside the small box. "Ooh!" she cooed, lifting up a fragile, glass bottle of clear perfume. "Glorious! It is my favorite!"

Raven raised her eyebrows. "Glad you like it."

Starfire took the devil into her arms, hugging her tightly. "Thank you, Friend Raven! Now I may once again smell of the berries of straw!"

Robin cringed uncomfortably. He hated how much he loved that scent. It was incredibly seductive and the mix of champagne with strawberries was just…wow. She smelled so sweet whenever she spritzed it on, and it always lingered in the air behind her, teasing him mercilessly. He constantly felt the hairs on the back of his neck perking up and he could nearly taste her every time she leaned in to whisper things to him. And that fragrance haunted the air, shaking his senses of unspoken desires. Damn, he had missed it.

"Starry!" Cyborg boomed, taking the birthday girl into his embrace. "Happy sixteenth!"

Starfire smiled genuinely, laughing against Cyborg's metallic chest. "Please, you have a gift?"

He broke out into a booming laughter. "Of course! Star, look out the window for a surprise,"

She walked over to the wide window hesitantly, peering out into the world. She screamed shrilly when her eyes caught a large area of pink. "Oh, X'hal!" she shrieked. "It is…it is…"

Cyborg gestured his hand. "Meet your mobile!"

Out on the front lawn, a large, cherry-colored car was parked atop the grass. A "Happy Birthday Starfire" banner covered the windshield, and Cyborg smiled proudly at his creation. It was a feminine little convertible, large enough to fit all five Titans. Starfire felt her feet lifting off of the ground as she flew over to the android.

"Oh, Cyborg! It is wonderful!" she exclaimed.

Cyborg grinned triumphantly. "Fixed her up myself,"

"Ooh! It is—THANK YOU!"

He shrugged innocently. "Ah, it was nothing."

Beast Boy pouted childishly. "Dude, all you got me for my birthday was a gift certificate to the pizza joint!"

Raven nudged him in the gut. "You're not even old enough to drive, Beast Boy. Deal with it."

Beast Boy grunted stubbornly. "Oh… thanks for the support." He paused for a moment. "Hey, Robin!"

The Boy Wonder turned his head slightly. "What?"

"Where's your gift, dude?"

Starfire glanced over at him hopefully. "Robin?"

He shrugged, taking his time to reply. "...Forgot, I guess."

And, suddenly, Starfire gained the sensation of her heart sinking into her stomach.

**O.O**

She lost track of how many hours she cried.

She forgot how many tears she had shed.

She was uncertain of how broken her heart really was.

And she was bewildered at the bitter memory of her best friend…her confidant… her forbidden lover… forgetting one of the most important days of her life.

It was a living hell.

Starfire's eyes remained a bloody red. Her hands trembled with emptiness and the sharp edges of a shattered soul cutting at her palms. Her cheeks carried the battle scars of fighting back all the broken affections that had begun an invasion at her party. Her stomach was bloated from the sorrow she had drowned in twelve slices of birthday cake. Her legs were limp and helpless from the way she had tripped over herself in the hallway on the way to her room. She witnessed the downfall of her love, tumbling from a fading pile of presents and lovers. She had been so happy…so… hopelessly infatuated with this boy. She loved him too much. She had known it—accepted it and welcomed it warmly. Because, she thought, he must have felt the same way for her to some degree.

Guess not.

He _forgot_? How the hell could he possibly forget her birthday? Her _sixteenth_ birthday of all things! Idiot! Why did boys have to be so complicated? Why couldn't they have a manual or something? Ugh!

Sixteen was so overrated…

_Knock…knock…knock…_

Starfire pushed herself off her bed, suppressing a sniffle as she slowly opened her door. "Hello…?" she said, greeting the empty air. She sighed softly, shuffling her feet on the ground as she struggled to hold her frame up. Her foot hit something on the floor, and she set her eyes downcast.

She bent down hesitantly, offering a puzzled look to the crinkled envelope that was placed by her toe. It was decorated with her name in sloppy letters, and a poorly drawn balloon was by that. She lifted the paper into her arms, and carried it back to her nightstand, where she read it over and over again in disbelief:

_To: The Birthday Girl_

_From: The Boy Blunder_

_When you get the time, please reply to this message. I'm not really quite sure what has suddenly promoted me to start writing this note, but, in the end, I'm sure I'll be glad I did. _

_Over the last few years, I've been watching and thinking about you intently. Every time I am called away from you, I think I shatter into a thousand fragile pieces, and I'm stepping all over myself and slicing at my skin. But the only thing digging at my mind is you. I feel disgusted knowing that I could put you in danger at any moment if I were to go up and tell you how I really feel. But...who will stop me once I begin to accept the fact that I think of you as more than just a friend; that every time I smile, you are the purpose of that classic expression? Most of the time, I ponder upon all the people who would gladly take me into their arms and love me senseless until the day I die. Except, then I think of if these crazed fans really love me the way their T-shirts, hats, and bumper stickers say they do. When I give it thought, I believe it is nothing more than a simple, childish infatuation influenced by nothing more than a liar with a luring face._

_What exactly is it that compelles us to buy anything that has the smile or even the simple name of that silly attraction on the cover? What makes us so excited when we can finally pin up a poster or have a chance to meet and greet that 'Special Someone'?_

_I just think it is immature._

_But, then I must be juvenile, as well, because I'm just as fascinated as everyone else._

_I'm not going to lie to you and say that there's never been a time when I haven't purchased a magazine just because there was a jumbo poster of you inside. I refuse to argue with the possibility that there still isn't a drop of jealousy within me twisting my emotions when I think of the image of another person buying that stupid poster and hanging it up in there room while they stare at it for hours, imagining how wonderful it would be to hold you in there arms and never let go, no matter how hard I try to tug you away. Do you really want to know where I get that image? Well... maybe its because I'm one of those people._

_I am hopelessly attached to you, and if anyone ever did get away with your heart, I would probably blast them. You're my friend—my very best friend who is the exact opposite of who I am. I don't think its a bad thing to have a small shred of romance dancing with you in my head, but the only fault with that is only that my tiny shred of a crush grows much larger and more frightening every day. If it gets any bigger, my head may practically explode and the little bit of sense I have left will have died off, and the only solution I'll have is to run up and kiss you whether you like it or not._

_How am I ever going to face you after you read this? I am already quite embarrassed jotting down these useless, tireless words. I didn't know I had it in me to be so...er...passionate, if you will. Most of the time, I stick to my own status and stand my ground, and I never usually let anyone influence me to change my personality. Once in a great while, I'll take a step forward and change my mood to the polar opposite of what it usually is. Then, about five minutes later, I'll take two steps backward, and resume my position as the same person I have always been._

_I'm trying not to be too obvious of who I am, and where I am right now. My best guess is that when I finally work up the courage to hand this sappy piece of paper over, you'll already be married and have kids with some other lucky guy. If I actually do slip this under your door tonight, when you read it, I'll probably do something stupid like crawl into the vents and watch to see if your expression is flattered, or ready to call the police and report a stalker. Well, whatever it is, at least this collection of out-of-character-wording will be off my chest for good. But...does that really mean I'll stop feeling this way about you?_

_I don't think I'll ever be able to stop dreaming about your silky hair and your numerous other drop-dead features. I am truly cast under you like its some kind of witchcraft. No matter how hard I try to tell myself that I don't love you, that stupid affection boomerang won't stop smacking me right in the face. I guess that's where the expression "Love Hurts" came from. Because, it really does hurt like a bullet to your brain._

_You looked wonderful at the Mayor's ball. I really did want to dance with you, but I was too nervous, and, every time I imagined myself holding you for a three-minute slow dance, I started to feel sick... but in a good way! I mean...I know it must be hard to understand how someone feeling sick can be felt in a good way. The way I felt that night was like...like butterflies in my stomach. So...it wasn't major or anything. I was just nervous, and way too…uh…shy._

_When I think of dancing with you, I feel that weird, warm, fuzzy feeling inside. I look content in the fantasy, and you're beaming brightly as I swing with you to the rhythm of the music. But...then my feet come into the big picture, and I'm treading on knives...or at least that's what it feels like. Then I snap back into the real world, and the reality is that you're off and prancing in your own life while I'm left sitting in the corner of the room waiting for the right time to make my move...like one of those crap school dances. But, sadly, the answer to that is probably never going to make its appearance._

_Do you think of me the same way? Or... if you knew who was behind the pen and paper, would you ever even consider loving someone of such a lower status? I don't really know if you'd love someone who had absolutely nothing in common with you at all, but, I suppose some people say that opposites DO attract...but these people may be confusing us with magnets. My point of view of this whole thing is that I'm hopelessly infatuated with the wrong person, and I'm putting you and me in danger._

_I don't expect you to approve of this possibility, but I would desire only that you continue to read past this point of my letter. Maybe I'm being a bit over dramatic. I mean...Slade is history, the Brotherhood of Evil is toast, and the rest of the criminals we fight are either couch potatoes, or everyday bank robbers. Of course, that still doesn't give me an excuse to rip your heart out if you actually accepted my feelings. Don't get me wrong, but...you know how I always play 'Mr. Big Shot'? Well, I'm certainly not that guy. The truth is that underneath my outer shell, I'm kind of soft and… Ugh...sort of...um...Er...sweet, I guess. And why I'm telling you this, I'll never actually understand. And even underneath that nauseatingly named layer, I'm still the same scared little boy that watched his life fall apart before his eyes. Now, I just can't help feeling that somehow, someway, you're stitching it all back together for me. So… thank you._

_Every time I spend even a moment with you, I'm walking on air, and I pray that deep down, you feel even the smallest shred of that feeling. Whenever I get the slightest second of a chance to hold your hand of give you a small embrace, I know I'm going to die a very, very happy man. I know I'm still very young and I am still pretty naive about some things. I know that no matter how stupid it sounds, I don't think I can ever stop caring the way I do._

_We've had our moments. Over the last few years, plenty of moments that totally convinced me that to some point, we're meant to be at some point in our lives. Even if I'm an old, shriveled up man when you reply to this message, I hope you'll be glad you did._

_Time may pass by like a giant hour glass, but the sands of affection that exist in all of us will probably just keep dropping to the bottom and rising again. I don't really know if this is a dangerous thing to send off like some random message in a bottle, but I know that if I throw this out and you never read it, I'm going to regret it deeply. This could be something terrible, and, of course, it could be something fantastic, but how are we going to know unless we try and give it a shot. _

_I know I'm being a lovesick idiot right now who's putting everything he believes in behind in his tracks, but if I don't say it now, who will later? _

_The point is that I've loved you for a long, long time, and occasionally I get the feeling you feel the same way. When I look at other cards and gifts you send off, I hope to think that mine was most meaningful and hopeful to make. Maybe so, and maybe not. But...I'm grateful for your eyes looking at this, and that little curious grin that's probably starting to twitch at the corner of your mouth. I'm sure this pointless note isn't even worth your time, but, eventually, it might be. I just hope this doesn't make things awkward between us. Even if you don't feel the same way, I hope we can still be friends._

_Oh, and…happy birthday._

Starfire felt tears rise to her mind as she felt the familiar sensation of his hand on her shoulder.

"I didn't forget, you know." He said gently, caressing her cheek with his hand. She shuddered as he spoke.

She sniffled. "I believed that perhaps…"

He put a finger to her lips. His gloves were off, and she sensed the softness of his skin. "Star, don't believe everything you hear." He stopped to smile for a moment. "I just… I'm sorry I ruined the party. I just didn't think that I could do this in front of—"

She pressured her lips against him, the flavor of chocolate icing tickling her taste buds. Robin moaned against her as she cut him off. He slid his tongue into her mouth, exploring the small of her back with his hands. Her eyes fluttered shut, and she knew that he certainly hadn't forgotten…at least on purpose. His kiss was just as she had imagined and fantasized about for so long— a tender, hesitant moment that would soon erupt into a cinematic-kind-of-kiss.

She felt her frame collapse into him as they slammed against the wall with an airy groan. Her skirt rode up on her thigh a little as their kiss deepened into a passionate haven. She played with his hair, feeling his raven tresses seep through her fingers. He pulled her a bit closer, and felt his lungs shriveling up from the lack of oxygen he inhaled. And, resentfully, he pulled away.

Starfire exhaled heavily into the heated air, staring with wonder when she noticed how crooked the mask on his face had become. She giggled a little as she observed how baffled he looked by what just happened between them, and blushed furiously when she realized what kind of position they were in.

"Robin…" Starfire breathed, her chest heaving.

"Yeah?" he panted, giving her a slightly mischievous smirk.

She grinned down on him. "…Kiss me again."

Robin smiled boyishly, playing with her crimson ringlets. "Happy Birthday, Star."

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**A/N:** Hey! So…there it is. Sorry it's so long…almost 5,000 words. Heheheh…anyway, I am very proud of this and would love it if you could send me a review: short or long…just send one if you liked it. Oh, yes, and since it's my birthday, you should be extra nice. Nah, just kidding…sort of. Okay…so…please review! If you bother to add it to your favorites list, then review! Please…I'll bake you cookies…?

Xoxo,

--Purple Wolf Girl

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